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by pomegrenadier



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Korriban, Sith Academy, Sith Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26832274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pomegrenadier/pseuds/pomegrenadier
Summary: Baras gets the measure of his prospective apprentice.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 46





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**Author's Note:**

> A slightly off-piste “meeting Darth Baras” conversation and followup that hopefully fixes the Sith Code nonsense without sacrificing the impact or tension. Hopefully. Some dialogue taken directly from the game, some not.

"Vemrin has paid his dues. He's fought a deck stacked against him. You, on the other hand ... Let me get a closer look at you." Baras rounds the desk, prowling towards him, mask impassive. The Force is no help, either; all he can sense is cold, and power, and focus.

Evren holds very still.

Baras halts, just a shade too close. "Yes ... as I suspected. Overseer Tremel has done you and this Academy a great disservice."

... Very, _very_ still.

"Your warblade came early. Prisoners flown in for your convenience. Even a beast here on Korriban instead of offworld, in the wild." Baras's voice twists with disgust. "The pacing of the Trials is deliberate. Only full immersion over time produces results. Your mind is soft. Unhoned. Undisciplined."

A challenge? A test, certainly. Apologies or groveling will make him seem weak; bluster or argument will make him seem petulant. Evren keeps his expression neutral. "I look forward to proving otherwise, my lord," he says.

"The first month of Trials should be dedicated to philosophy, conceptual tactics, understanding of the Sith Code ... Recite the Sith Code for me, acolyte, and explain its meaning in battle, war, and politics," Baras commands.

Evren runs through the lines with a sinking feeling. This is a trap. This is absolutely a trap. And it's one he can't escape because he doesn't know what kind of answer Baras is looking for—he doesn't know Baras well enough to discern whether he actually wants an answer, or if this is a power play to prove some point—

"... the Force shall free me," Evren finishes. He hesitates, then says, "The Code has many applications, my lord; could you be more specific?"

"Hedging your bets, supplicant?" Baras says silkily. "You are a cautious one, aren't you ... Answer the question."

Power play, then. He will lose no matter what he says. Which could mean anything from mild humiliation to a snapped neck. He takes a shallow breath. "Yes, my lord. _Peace is a lie_ refers to both the internal state of the Force adept, and the fact that external conflict is inevitable. Rather than denying that such conflict exists or attempting to curb it, the Sith Empire as a whole embraces it, because conflict forces us to—"

"Spoken like a dutiful schoolboy. You lack Vemrin's fire, his conviction—it is not overly inspiring. But I suppose I can expect little more from Tremel's coddled favorite."

Is he meant to take that as provocation, show a bit of _fire_? Or would that be too predictable, itself a disappointment? Evren stares directly ahead and says, "I prefer practical demonstrations to theory."

Baras chuckles, rich and cold. "Do you, now?"

Two minutes later, Evren is scuttling back downstairs, a bit lightheaded, pathetically relieved to have a defined objective.

At least he's good at murder.

* * *

Evren is probably supposed to be thinking of revenge, of proving his worth in spite of Overseer Tremel's favoritism. Take the resentment and turn it to rage, to power.

Instead, he is thinking of Devotek in that cell, hoping for some semblance of an honorable death. He is thinking of _It's like taking out the trash._ Round and round they go. Killed by the same acolyte, even. That's almost funny.

It's easy, killing Tremel. It's easy, cutting off the corpse's sword hand and bringing it to Darth Baras, as instructed.

"You know, Tremel thought of you as family," says Baras, as if that's supposed to mean anything to him.

"How ... sentimental," says Evren. He doesn't have to feign the contempt.

Baras inclines his head, and the pressure of his scrutiny eases just the tiniest degree. It's a start.


End file.
